


When Dick Met Tony

by inthisdive



Category: DCU (Comics), NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7204949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthisdive/pseuds/inthisdive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick doesn’t like investigating cities outside his comfort zone. Tony kind of likes being punched in the face? (this was written in 2008)</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Dick Met Tony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shehasathree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shehasathree/gifts).



Dick prefers to stay out of the way of any official authorities – especially when a case took him out of Bludhaven, out of Gotham, and right into unfamiliar territory. He worked better without an audience. 

He wonders where he got that from. 

One tip-off from a tight-lipped Babs over commlinks later, here Dick was, skirting around the edges of a crime scene, looking like a tool (relatively speaking) in tight with plainclothes investigators all around. He rubs his head and watches from the shadows, a little uneasy, because the tall, incredibly hot but vaguely scary woman seemed to keep looking into his particular patch of shadow with her hand on her gun holster. Dick doesn’t know how he hasn’t evaded her, and that puts him on edge. He was supposed to blend into shadows, to be invisible when necessary. He’d learned from Bruce, damnit, he was supposed to be stealthy, to be – 

“What’re you supposed to be?”

The voice came from behind him and Dick whirls on the defensive, but precious moments too delayed. If this guy had been out to kill him, he’d be dead by now. 

Lucky, then, that the guy just looked amused. (Lucky?) 

“And shouldn’t you have a cape with that getup?” the guy continues, smirking. He had an honest face, Dick notes, and appeared comfortable in the surroundings. 

The woman looks over and the guy even raised a hand, giving her a thumbs up. “It’s okay, Ziva,” he calls, “I’ve got this.”

He’s _got this_? Dick frowns. How did he take control of this situation? It did not happen this way in Bludhaven.

“I don’t do capes,” he mutters, a little annoyed. “Look-“

“Even Batman wears a cape,” the guy continues, choking on laughter. 

Dick glared.

“Sometimes he’s got a bat-suit with nipples, so you know, the guy’s judgment ain’t always all that, but the cape, man. It’s nothing without the cape.”

“I’m not Batman,” Dick says stiffly, and he holds a hand up to stop the conversation, to try and get back to the point. The crime. What _was_ going on over at the scene? He turns to look, but the guy just keeps going, easy.

“Me either, buddy. I’m Special Agent DiNozzo, and this is a restricted area.” There was still a smile on his - DiNozzo’s – face, but there was an edge in the set of his jaw that Dick knew well. 

It looked kind of like his. 

“I need to know what’s going on.”

“Classified.” And that edge in his face was still there, but there was something else, a smugness. “So why don’t you go save the world from a tidal wave, Superman, and we’ll take care of the important stuff.”

Dick nods. Considers that. And then he punches Special Agent DiNozzo in the face.

When he topples, Dick gives a satisfied nod and throws him over his shoulders, flinging them up to the rooftops and away. He could hear shots fired in the background, but he was fast, and lost them within minutes.

* 

“Your first mistake,” he tells DiNozzo conversationally, when he finally wakes, “Was talking about the costume.”

“Huh? Where am I?” DiNozzo looks around, and Dick was sort of grudgingly pleased that he didn’t look afraid. He looked like he was sizing up the situation and taking stock. 

“You’re in a safe house. I’m not even going to hurt you.” He paused. “Well, I might if you call me Superman again.” 

“How about a two-bit Batman?”

“That’s going to get you a broken jaw.”

“Ah.”

Dick almost smiled; so did DiNozzo. 

“What kind of special agent are you?” Dick asks, honestly curious, standing with his hands behind his back; alert, but not threatening. 

“NCIS.” 

“… I don’t even know what that is.” 

“It’s no Justice League, but we get the job done. Why aren’t you killing me?”

“Not going to.” Dick shrugs. “I was just trying to get answers. You, well, you kind of pissed me off, to be honest. I had to come up with a new plan.”

And DiNozzo laughed. “I get that a lot.” 

Dick knelt beside the couch, DiNozzo still stretched out where Dick had placed him, suddenly serious. “I’m one of the good guys, too. I can help. Let’s talk.” 

And DiNozzo looked back at him, silent, for a long moment. And then he nodded.

They talked.

And Dick let DiNozzo – Tony – go free without a care in the world. 

When Babs called in later for a sit rep, Dick told her “not tonight, I have a headache,” and went offline. He’d worry about the paperwork later. Maybe. He had a sting to observe.

* 

When the case is over, and the good guys have won, Tony invites himself back to Dick’s safe house for a beer. Dick has no idea how he found the safe house, and he has no idea why, when the door knocks, Dick slips his mask on with his jeans and button-down and _actually answers it_.

“Nice place,” Tony says casually, walking through. 

Dick stares at him. 

“Did I leave my wallet here?” He grins at Dick, points at the mask. “That… looks really dumb right now.” 

“Secret identity,” Dick says, still just staring.

“Really dumb. Anyway, I’m out for a beer, I go to pay, and my wallet’s missing. So I check the office, I check my car, I check _McGee’s_ car—“

“Who’s McGee?”

“This guy I know. Anyway, so I check everywhere, and it’s nowhere, so I’m thinking, where else have I been lately? Oh yeah, some mysterious superhero safehouse. Can’t leave my MasterCard with a superhero.” Tony turned around, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. “All this stuff has to be paid for somehow. What’s the rent like on a hideout?”

Dick doesn’t reply, and when Tony turns back to face him, he winks. “Were you just checking out my ass?” 

“Yes,” Dick replies, dryly, looking Tony in the eye. “More specifically, your back pocket.”

“My back pocket?”

“Yeah.” Dick leans over, fishes his hand in the pocket – and comes out with a slim black wallet. 

Tony smiles sheepishly. 

Dick drops the wallet into Tony’s hand. “Found it.”

And Tony shrugs, says “Better luck next time,” and then leans over and kisses Dick.

*

Dick does not usually get kisses. Okay, sometimes he gets kissed. He gets kissed by Starfire or Babs or hot policewomen, not NCIS special agents named Tony DiNozzo, and so he’s not expecting this – and Tony’s hand is on his waist, and Dick flinches, and his hand is between them, sort of suspended between their chest. 

Dick doesn’t know if Tony’s eyes are closed because he always shuts his own to kiss and kiss back – because. Huh. He’s kissing back. 

“So I wonder if my wallet’s in your bedroom,” Tony says, and he’s still close, still against Dick’s lips, and it’s basically like he’s talking into Dick’s mouth. Dicks thinks that’s weird, but not entirely unpleasant.

“The wallet is in your hands,” Dick points out, trying not to look breathless.

“Yeah, but let’s look anyway.”

Dick pauses, steps back. 

Tony looks at him.

Dick looks back. 

Tony grins.

And Dick says solemnly, “Leave no stone unturned,” and, without a word, turns for the bedroom. Tony follows, taking off his shirt.

*

Later, in the dark: “Did you learn _that_ from Batman?”

“Just shut up and lie there.”

*


End file.
